High Seas

The Admiralty had scheduled a meeting of their top officers to try to come up with a legitimate plan on how to deal with the current pirate scourge, most notably a man in his thirties known as Captain Blackheart. The meeting of the top Admirals and their advisors had been continuing for over an hour with them having the same luck they had know in aprehending the rogue privateer, all bad.

"I'm telling you this is nothing but an outrage! Her Majesty's fleet and her commanders are being to look incompetant." Admiral Charles Grissom's face was flushed, he had spent the better part of the past year devising new ways to deal with the pirates. He was in his mid-fifties and had used the power and prestige his family had to become the head of disciplinary action for the British navy and thus the weight of the pirate problem fell squarly on his shoulders. "I say it is the commanders that are incompetent. How is it a lone ship can avoid the entire fleet? Let alone create his own colony in the heart of Merchant shipping routes."

Admiral Benson was a wise old man nearing the end of his carreer but his words still carried weight for those that heard them. "No one is disputing the fact of what this failure has us appearing to many including the Queen herself. But I believe it's incorrect to put the blame squarel on the shoulders of our comanders. Is it not true that it was us that appointed them?" His steely eyes looked each of the Admirals in theirs as if requesting their agreement, which he of course got. "This Captain Blackheart fellow was once one of us, he served very admiraly against the Spanish for many a year."

"Then who are we to blame? Someone must answer for these continued failures." Admiral Westinghouse puffed lightly on his pipe, his mind in a constant mode of thought.

"Not me, I refuse to answer for the inadequatsies of commanders."

Admiral Benson let out a chuckle, "No one is saying you will Charles. However, I am saying that we created this man, and as such it's our responsibilty to stop him." He waited a moment for any arguments and after seeing there were none he continued, "To end this man's reign we must understand him."

The wrecked ship bobbed on the glassy surface of the open sea like a cork as a sleek pirate ship slid away on the afternoon winds. On the deck of his ship Eugene Welsh, known as Captain Blackheart, stood and let his eyes bounce from wave to wave, the sinking ship behind him was no longer a concern. He turned to face his crew as those not tending to the rigging stood as they waited to hear their captain speak. "Avast ye scurvy dogs! Let this plunder be reward for yer bravery and yer lives for yer loyalty!" The crew let out a raucous cheer, it had been the same speech many had heard dozens of times. To those that had served aboard the Spectre the longest it was a beloved victory cry, for though their Captain ruled with a iron fist he had led them to riches other pirates only dreamed about.

The ship's first mate, Johan Quincy, pointed towards the handful of British sailors they had captured. "What ye wish us ta do with the prisoners sir?"

Blackheart looked over the prisoners with a practised eye before he decided. Being a solid judge of character, he prided himself on being able to select the best men by sight alone. Unfortunatley for them, the prisoners failed to impress him. "Throw them to the sharks lads, they aren't worth the deckspace beneath them."

In a state of panic and anger one of the prisoners tried to free his hands from the rope, "Sir! I served as first mate aboard that vessel, you'll need my experience."

Blackheart eyed the man a moment before a grin played across his face. "First mate ye say?"

The man nodded hopefully, "Aye sir. May I say I was quite admirable in my duties."

Blackheart's grin turned into a large smile as he climbed down from the bridge and faced the young officer. "Admirable in yer duties ye say? Tell me lad, do ye see any cowards aboard me vessel aside from yerself that is?"

The man's face drained of it's color, "Sir I assure you I am no coward!"

Blackheart lifted his head and slowly turned in a circle as he spoke loudly so all could hear. "He says he is no coward, yet I personally fought his Captain. Mr. Bleu fought thier cabin boy and yet this one lives." He turned back to face the young officer, "Tell me lad, how is it a mere cabin boy can face a master of the cutlass such as Mr. Bleu while an officer as admirable in his duties such as yerself could avoid the battle?" Blackheart's eyes burned deep into the young officer's until the young man averted his eyes. Blackheart stood back and smiled sadistically, "Mr. Grieves."

A voice shouted out from behind the captain, "Aye sir."

Blackheart smiled broadly, "Treat this admirable officer like the bilge rat he be!"

A large man materialized out from the crew, his body covered in various tattoos. "Aye aye."

The young officer screamed out in terror as the large man grabbed him and began dragging him below decks, the remaining prisoners stood quiet more out of fear than anything as Blackheart's gaze fell on them. "Let's not keep the sharks waitin maties!" A loud cheer went out from the crew as the men were pushed towards the plank.

The next few weeks the pirate ship Spectre had raided three more small merchant vessels and added their wealth to their nearly overflowing hold. Feeling that the time had come for them to leave the seas for a short time Captain Blackheart had set a course for the one place no military vessels knew of, Pirate's Cove. After nearly a full year of constuction the pirate settlement had finally been completed. Captain Blackheart had selectd the area personally, it was sheltered on two of its sides by a coral reef that rose ten feet above the waves. The open end of the lagoon was shallow and filled with smaller reefs that were nearly invisable until the last moment, a natural defense that wouldn't allow a seaborne invasion. Due to their shallow and sleek design most pirate vessels are designed for speed, to hit and run, and thus they naturally settle higher in the water. A majority of warships are larger and carry a larger supply of battlements, the added weight not only slows the ships when in pursuit but also cause them to settle deeper in the water. Physics and design allow a majority of the pirate vessels to glide over the jagged corral while the military vessels would have the bottom of thiers hulls shredded and sink before they could fire a shot.

Blackheart felt a wave of pride everytime he envisioned the scene of British ships being scuttled along the reef, a large smile usually followed that thought as he mentally counted the gold he would be paid by the other pirates if they wanted his "protection", those that weren't willing to pay him were dealt with accordingly. It wouldn't do for the feared Captain Blackheart to have the reputation he so skillfully earned soiled by an act of mercy.

As the sun slowly rose over the horizon Blackheart took a deep breath as his eyes settled on home. "I believe the man 'ave earned this restbit Mr. Quincy."

The ship's first mate stood at his station behind the Captain on the bridge, "Aye, that be the truth Captain. This be a welcome sight."

Blackheart nodded his agreement, the sign of a good commander was to know when to push and when to allow one's men to relax. "Ye 'ave the bridge Mr. Quincy."

The first mate stepped forward and took over at the helm, "Aye aye Captain. Shall I notify the crew?"

Blackheart stopped and thought it over a moment, "Give em another hour of sleep, by then the rum should've worn off."

"Aye aye Captain." Blackheart climbed down from the bridge and turned towards his private cabin, it would be two hours until they reached Pirate's Cove and he had profits to tally.

Captain Blackheart stood on the bridge of the Spectre and gazed out over the water, a majority of his crew were in the settlement enjoying the effects of rum and the company of the local women. The sound of footfalls behind him alerted him to the presense of his first mate. "Would a night of drink kill ye Captain?"

Blackheart smiled and chukled quietly to himself, 'Ye best not worry about me Mr. Quincy. The crew may need ya more in the mornin."

"Aye Captain, tis be true but my duty is to the ship and her Captain as well."

"Well spoken Mr. Quincy. Someday yer'll make a fine Captain."

"I pray it not be too soon Captain."

"Aye, as do I." Blackheart's gaze was lifted to the stars as he breathed in the cool and crisp night air. He had made it a habit of keeping his innermost thoughts to himself although he knew his first mate could tell what he was thinking, a gift that he had grow to welcome rather than distrust. These past few weeks had been the most profitable he had ever experience and his thoughts had now gone to his retirement.

Unseen by the pirates a group of seven English vessels were anchored north of the small cove that protected the pirates hidden behind a small island chain. On the bridge of the larger ship a middle aged man lowered his spyglass. "Mr. Franklin, that was the Spectre was it not?"

"That it was Admiral, I do believe the time to attack is now."

Admiral Smyth smiled as he turned to face the Captain of the ship he was curently on. "You wish to attack in the middle of the night?" The Captain remained silent, he knew any arguement he had wouldn't work. "The first rule of engagement is to take them by surprise." Smyth's eyes turned towards the sky, "I'm surprised you'd even offer such an idea on a clear night such as this. How would we spot them or vice versa?" His eyes lowered to lock onto the Captain's, "We'll attack first thing in the morning, at that time the pirates will undoubtly be in no condition to face us."

"I'm sure you'll return home with Captain Blackheart's head, sir."

"That I will Mr. Franklin, I trust the baited vessel is properly prepared?"

Captain Frankilin loathed the way that Admiral Smyth spoke to others as though they were there to merely be used as his pawns, their lives to be thrown away on a whim. Despite his upbringing Franklin couldn't understand how such a "Gentleman" had become a Admiral. But Franklin kept his thoughts to himself and buried them deep down, perhaps they would come in handy another time. "That it is sir, she's waiting for your orders."

Smyth nodded, his face wore a friendy smile but his thoughts were as treacherous as his subordinate's. Once this whole fiasco was over with he'd be decorated and living a lavish lifestyle, her Majestry herself wouldn't deny him a thing. "Very good, they set sail first thing in the morning."

The early morning hours were filled with the sounds of the British sailors preparing for thier mission. The baited vessel was one that was captured during the English-Spanish war. It hadn't taken long to repair the damage that had been done to it during an attack by a privateer and now it was undergoing its final preparations for what would be its final voyage. Admiral Smyth was pleased with the plan he had laid out to capture the pirate Captain Blackheart. As far as he could see the man was no better than a wild beast that some bleeding heart had tried to tame within the confines of the English Navy. Soon the rest would see the feared captain as he did, on that day he would look down on everyone from his new place in the Empire. Smyth smiled as he watched the skeleton crew prepare to sail past the Pirate's Cove.

The sound of Captain Franklin behind him alerted Smyth and before the young captain could utter a word he gave the order. "Set sail Captain, in an hour we shall follow the bait and see what we've caught."

Captain Franklin snapped to attention and bowed his head, "Very good sir."

The Admiral smiled in approval, despite his feelings towards the young man he was a good officer. By the end of this day Smyth would set sail for London with Captain Blackheart onboard alive or dead and his ship the Spectre on the bottom of the ocean. "This will be a day long remembered."

The light of the early morning sun shone through the windows of Blackheart's cabin and settled on his unconscious form in his bunk. The entire settlement aside from a few that had been placed on lookout were silently recoverying from their full day and night of excesses. By most accounts it was a sleepy day as it was, the cool morning air was filled with a low hanging mist that hugged the water. The lookouts had remained obediant to their Captain's order to remain sober and vigil mostly due to the threat of death if they had failed. As such the Spanish Galleon was spotted a mere mile outside the Cove with ease as was the pursuing group of English ships.

The announcement of the passing ship stirred even the drunkest pirate to be full of life at the thought of what would be in the hold of such a ship. The first of them to be roused was Captain Blackheart, he had slept soundly if only for the handful of hours he had been given the chance. He watched quietly as the English ships continued their pursuit of the vessel but they were mere specks through the looking glass on the horizon. "Least an hour away."

"Aye Captain, we can scuttle the Spanish ship and be gone before we're spotted."

Blackheart thought the scenario over for a moment, he knew his ship and men could overtake the Spaniish Galleon and take it's cargo before the English ship had a chance to bring its guns to bear but it would require great speed and precision. Something about the whole situation didn't sit well with him. He was certain that no one outside of his crew and the few pirates that he had allowed to take refuge in his cove knew about it so he doubted it was a trap but if he took his ship out then they would be found out. After a moment he turned to face his first mate, "How many are there Mr. Quincy?"

"Six Captain. Slow battleships."

Blackheart thought it over for a second before his eyes settled on another pirate ship he had won in a game of chance, her unlucky captain didn't take the lose very well and was now in the bottom of the cove. "Mr. Quincy, how long ta get er ready to fire ship?"

Quincy looked at his captain for a moment in confusion but then he followed his gaze to the other vessel and a smile spread across his face. "Half hour, mebbe less."

Blackheart smiled broadly, "Take whoever ye need." He turned to the rest of his crew, "Ta me me buckos! Before tis day is out the English will be short six ships! Prepare the chain shot!"

The crew quickly went to work on their assignments as a chanty broke out among them. Blackheart watched with pride as his men readied the Spectre for what would be a glorious battle.

On the English ship Admiral Smyth lowered his spyglass, "I thought you said the pirates are here Captain Franklin?" His tone was one of angry frustration rather than a questioning nature.

Captain Franklin shook his head, "I don't understand sir. The pirates we captured told us this is where to find Blackheart."

Smyth turned to face his subordinate, "Perhaps you should have questioned them more thouroughly."

"I attempted to do so sir, but you were in a hurry to run them to the gallows."

Smyth's expression took on the appearance of pure anger, "How dare you insult me thus! I should have you placed in irons and taken back as a traitor."

Any further argument was cut short by a yell from the lookout in the crow's nest. "Ship starboard!"

Both of the officers turned in time to see a rather large ship sail towards the center of their formation. Franklin was the first to act, "Hard to port!"

As the boatswain began to turn the ship Admiral Smyth stopped him. "Belay that order! Hard to Starboard!" He turned back towards the Captain, "We will not run from this attack! One more show of incompetence and I shal personally deliver you to her Majesty. I will not have you ruin this opportunity"

With the lead ship turning towards the oncoming vessel the other five followed suit and within a minute they had it surrounded and were ready to fire. The Admiral watched the ship as it was brought up to the side of his own vessel but after a moment his look of triumph turned to one of confusion. "Where's her crew?"

"They musta abandoned ship shortly after it left harbor sir."

The English sailors had cautiosly boarded the vessel but were beginning to feel uneasy. After a moment Franklin thought he spotted smoke as it rose from the hold cover. "Everyone off! Now!"

Smyth turned to face the captain but anything he was going to say was replaced by a large explosion from the captured ship. Within moments the English ships were covered in burning tar. As the ships burned the lead ship had been replaced by a empty wreck as it continued to burn and sink below the waves, sailors and officers were calling for help as they were slowly pulled down with the ships or burned to death as they fought against the spreading flames.

From inside the cove Blackheart watched with a sly smile as all but one ship was broken and burning. "Works every time" Blackheart turned to his first mate as water dripped from his clothes, "Set course for the remaining vessel." his crew did as they were told. He had gambled that the English commander would be willing to risk everything to capture him and he had been right. "Englishmen are so pompous."

A single shot from the chain shot cut their mast in half, with the English ship lost Blackheart and his crew found that the remaining sailors had been badly shaken and had no fight left in them. When asked what why they were chasing the Galleon the surviving sailors quickly explained what had been their mission. With no reason to chase after the Galleon Blackheart let it go, as a warning as to what would happen to any interloper that tried to stop he and his crew.

Back in England the Admiralty sat quielty as they each contemplated what Admiral Benson had said, each of them had at one time met this Captain Blackheart when he had served with them and had been known as Eugene Welsh. Admiral Westinghouse was the first to speak, "Perhaps Admiral Smyth will have better luck, he is our best man."

The room was filled with murmers and nods from the other Admirals except for Admiral Benson, "Perhaps, if his can keep his ego reigned in."